


Octave Ripples

by NiSt3



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, Character Death, Daphne Greengrass/Other(s), F/M, Hannah Abbott/Ron Weasley - Freeform, Hermione Granger/Other(s) - Freeform, Hufflepuff Ginny Weasley, Hufflepuff Luna Lovegood, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Torture, Infidelity, Minor Draco Malfoy/Pansy Parkinson, Original Character(s), Other Ships Not Mentioned in Tags, POV Daphne Greengrass, POV Hermione Granger, POV Narcissa Black Malfoy, Protective Weasley Family (Harry Potter), Sexual Content, Sirius Black Lives, Slow Burn, Slytherin Ron Weasley
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-03-13
Packaged: 2021-03-15 21:27:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 21,923
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29442591
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NiSt3/pseuds/NiSt3
Summary: In October 1989 there is a horrific attack in Diagon Alley.  Seven are ultimately killed, including one couple that leaves seven children orphaned.  The effects of the event continue to ripple out for years to come.September 1996:  Narcissa Malfoy reaches out to her sister to help protect her son.  Hermione Granger returns for her sixth year and finds herself stuck with Malfoy (and others) for a class project.  And Daphne Greengrass is just hoping to get through the year.(will probably rework the summary at some point - again)Tags will update / change as appropriate.
Relationships: Daphne Greengrass/Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy, Lucius Malfoy/Narcissa Black Malfoy, Narcissa Black Malfoy/Bill Weasley
Comments: 6
Kudos: 18





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I've played a bit with the ages of Bill and Charlie Weasley for the purpose of the story.

October 1989

On Hallowe’en 1989, a couple took their two youngest children to dinner at the Dragon’s Diner in Diagon Alley. Their five oldest children were at Hogwarts, the twins having just started their first year. It was quiet just having the two at home now and it was obvious they missed their brothers.

She wondered what they would be like when it was their turn to go to Hogwarts. Their oldest brother was Head Boy this year, something she had not stopped bragging about to anyone who would listen. Their second oldest was Quidditch captain and a prefect. Their third already had his sights set upon prefect in two years and Head Boy in four. And the twins, she sighed, she counted only have received ten letters home – total between the two of them – so far regarding their antics as a win.

Her husband smiled over at her. The two youngest had begun to get along better without their brothers around. It had been a nice change of pace after mediating fights for years. She just hoped it continued after their brothers came home.

When there was an explosion of glass at the front, she glanced over in surprise. The two masked figures at the front shot a jolt of fear coursing through her. She reached to grab her children up as she dug in her bag for her wand.

Her husband was already standing up to face them. A flash of green light hit him. She focused on her children, it was too late for him.

The screaming in the restaurant was deafening. Flashes of green and red as more customers raised their own wands in protection.

She knew they were coming towards her. She just had to get her children out of here. They held on to her, crying as they looked at the lifeless body of their father where he had fallen on the ground.

If she could just get to the back door.

She waved her wand in various protection spells – she couldn’t focus on offense until her children were safe – as she carried them. Other parents with their own children pressed against her.

The first parent hit the backdoor but it didn’t open. When Alohomora and Portaberto didn’t work, there were desperate shouts of Bombarda and Confingo as panicked parents tried to blast their way through.

“We’ll open it, if you stay.”

She turned back around at the voice. And swallowed. She hadn’t seen the wand pointing back at her in close to twenty years. 

When she nodded, he flicked his wand at the door. It opened and parents crashed through. The crack of apparition instant the moment they hit the street. She pushed her children towards it, trying to shake them off as they cried for her.

“They stay too.”

There was no way she was allowing that.

She managed to shoot a few curses at them. But there were two of them and one was focused on dismantling the protection spells around her children.

At the first cry of pain from one of them, she turned instinctively.

The spell that paralyzed her hit her in the back and her wand flew from her hand. Her children rushed her and she watched the same spell hit them.

They both looked dazed as they fell.

One of her children slipped into darkness.

While the other . . .

The other did not.

**************

September 1996

This year when Draco suggests he is old enough to go to the platform on his own, there are others, besides Lucius, that agree with him. Narcissa Malfoy knows that Lucius wishes she would release the hold she has on Draco. But she knows her son. And though he makes the suggestion, his eyes dart over to his father for approval of his words.

So she disagrees and ignores the chorus of voices that try and convince her.

She may buckle to the weight of a lot of things. But her son is where she draws the line.

And she doesn’t comment when he grips her arm just a little too tight before she apparates them to the station.

He visibly relaxes, the tension leaving his shoulders.

Narcissa pats his arm and smiles gently at him. This summer has been rough. The failure at the Ministry, all but one of them fleeing successfully on a moment’s notice when it was revealed that their plan to secure the prophecy would fail. It had all taken its toll on Lucius. 

Plus the others that had taken up residence in the Manor.

It makes it difficult for her to get out as easily as she used to.

She wishes for one of the random raids that were so common in years past. If they found some of her _guests_ it would be very helpful. There is a slight twinge of guilt within her.

“I see Theo over there mother,” Draco turns to her. She smiles and places a hand on her son’s cheek. He is taller than her now. Every year when she has to leave him it seems to hurt more. His prefect badge is already gleaming brightly on his robes. He really is a good boy.

“Of course. Tell Theodore I say hello,” she blinks back the tears, because _Black’s do not cry_ and forces the smile to remain on her face. “I love you Draco.”

“I love you too mother,” he says formally and presses a quick kiss to her cheek.

She watches him walk away from her. And longs for the days when he used to wrap his arms around her, begging to be swung around. His giggles as she would place kisses all over his little face. She knows he thinks he is almost a grown wizard. And that he doesn’t need her anymore.

But he will always be her little boy. The baby she held and swore on her magic that nothing would harm. No matter who the harm was coming from.

And she will do anything to ensure his protection. Especially from the plans of some of their _guests_.

There is a flash of bright pink in the corner of her eye. She watches the girl – she inwardly cringes, if she’s a girl, what does that make _him_ and that does not do to think about. The girl – _witch_ – she knows her name of course though has never spoken it aloud, meets her gaze. Her eyes harden briefly. Ah, Narcissa sighs, it seems that the young witch knows who she is.

Her eyes meet ones similar to her own standing in the same group and she feels herself jolt. It has been over fifteen years since she has seen him in person. He moves his gaze away.

She turns back to the train and ignores the whispers that start around her. There have always been whispers from those that didn’t believe Lucius’s story about being imperioed – rightfully so. And since that article earlier this year, plus the rumours that continued through the summer, they have only gotten stronger.

In Draco’s first year, Lucius came with her. But she has been on her own since then. That first year Draco had made her promise that she would wait until the train was gone so that he could wave at her. And she did, his wide eyes blinking rapidly in his face as he placed his little hand against the glass. He did the same in his second year and then it was no longer fashionable to want to wave good-bye to your mother. But she waits each year until the train leaves all the same.

Narcissa likes to think that Draco knows she does and appreciates it, though she has no way to know for certain.

Just as the train is about to depart, she sees flashes of bright red running towards the doors. She shakes her head. Every year.

But now that the train is gone, she has somewhere to be. It is helpful that she has always gone to visit a few shops after the train leaves so she is not expected back at the Manor until sometime this afternoon.

And so as not to arouse suspicion she has some packages waiting for her to pick them up. He told her they would be around back.

It seems strange to call it a meeting, but she doesn’t know what else to call it.

She just hopes that she hasn’t moved. It has been close to twenty-five years since she was given the address in a letter. A letter which she promptly burned and never responded to.

The house is small. She hesitates to even call it a cottage. It could probably fit inside the Manor’s drawing room. It looks dark inside. Did she receive her letter? Thoughts of Draco, of securing his safety, propel her towards the door.

She knocks politely and takes a step back, just in case she has moved. But she instantly recognizes the figure that opens the door.

The two of them stand there staring at each other for a moment before Narcissa speaks. She is the one that reached out to her. And she does not have time for games right now.

“Hello Andy.”

Her sister tilts her head marginally in acknowledgement. “Narcissa.”

She inwardly cringes at her full name. The three of them only ever used their full names to voice their displeasure with each other. “I wish to speak with you. I’m not sure if you got my letter.”

“I did. But I thought we were waiting twenty-five years between replies.”

There is a moment of silence and then Andy steps aside. Narcissa sighs in relief and steps inside the house. She follows her sister to the kitchen where Andy very purposefully does not offer her a cup of tea when she pours her own. It smarts a little, because despite everything this is still her sister. And she feels that yearning from when she was a child to want her sisters to be pleased with her.

“You wished to speak with me?” Andy prompts. 

“Yes, it is about Draco. He is my son,” and because she knows that Andy never liked Lucius, she feels the need to veer off what she prepared. “He is just a boy in his sixth-year. He’s a prefect,” she feels the familiar surge of pride that always wells up in her when she talks of her son. “And does very well in all –“

“I’m aware of your son Narcissa,” Andy interrupts her. “What do you want?”

“I wish to secure his future.” She disregards all of her prepared arguments. The answer immediate as if she were a girl again with her older sister asking a question.

“Is Bellatrix not staying at your home? Can she not help you to secure _his future_?” the disdain drips from Andy’s voice. “After all, I’m not sure if our visions of the future align.”

Narcissa doesn’t even wonder how she knows that Bella is at the Manor. Because of course they do. She wonders how much they actually know. And if they know that she has other _guests_ and if so, why don’t they raid the Manor to get them out?

“Bella would have me sacrifice my son in service to _him_.” Andy’s eyes flash in anger and dart over to a photo of a younger version of the witch from the station, laughing as her hair morphs from pink to blue and back again. And this is why she came to Andy. Because Narcissa knows that it may have been twenty-five years since they spoke, but this is something that they can agree on.

“And our vision of what the future should look like?” At that Andy reaches down to the table and flips over a photo. In it Andy is eighteen, the age she was when she left home. The wizard she is hugging grins and looks down at her happily. Her eyes take in the wedding dress her sister is wearing.

She runs her finger along the frame. It is on the cusp of her tongue to ask if it was a nice wedding. But instead she looks up at her sister. “I am aligned to this future.”

Because she is. If it keeps her son safe and away from that madman who throws Crucio around as if it is the only spell he knows, she is. She will do anything to make sure her son is safe. And after seeing just how mad Bella has become and the way Lucius prostrates himself on the ground at his feet, she longs for family that knows what they stand for.

In the back of her mind, she has those other thoughts. That he is probably fighting for this future too. But she pushes it back. It is dangerous to think it while she is away from him.

“What are you proposing?” Andy asks, accepting her explanation.

Narcissa sighs in relief. They are back to her prepared remarks. “Information of course, in exchange for protection when the time comes.”

Andy nods. “I can set up a meeting, but you will have to prove yourself.” Her sister taps her head.

It is nothing less than expects and though she detests the idea of someone else in her head, Narcissa nods. “Of course.” It is all for Draco.

***************************

The opening prefects meeting is brief, the new fifth-year prefects introduced along with the new Heads. Professor Babbling is the professor that supervises the first meeting. After this, she will be very hands off. Only interceding in disputes or unless absolutely necessary.

The Head Girl this year is from Hufflepuff. Something that makes Hermione Granger happy. It is an unstated fact that they do not like doing Head Girls or Boys from the same house in successive years. The Head Boy is from Slytherin though and she inwardly giggles. Because Malfoy practically seethes at that.

When Professor Babbling releases them, she is surprised when Hannah doesn’t stay to chat and instead rushes off.

“Hermione,” she looks over at Dean when he calls her name from her conversation with Padma. He is standing at the compartment door, obviously ready to leave. “I’m going to go find Seamus, I’ll see you later.” She nods and waves to him.

Malfoy scowls at her behind Dean as he walks off with Parkinson. She rolls her eyes. Like she is waving at him.

She chats for a little bit with Padma and Ernie. All three of them received an ‘O’ in Potions so will be proceeding to the NEWT level class. She also hopes to be able to take Defense – of course – Transfiguration, Charms, Herbology, Runes, Arithmancy, Astronomy, and History of Magic. Plus Alchemy if they offer it. And she really hopes they do.

She waves bye to them and turns to head out of the compartment.

The train gets more crowded each year. And she knows that they have added cars.

It is a perfect example of why all of this blood-purity nonsense is ridiculous. She is not sure if it is just willful ignorance or pure stupidity. During one of her conversations with Sirius this summer, when he was actually there, he claimed it to be a combination of both. But reminded her that the magical world is larger than just Hogwarts.

She knows that obviously. She still occasionally writes Viktor. All she is saying is that this is an example of how they would ruin themselves with their ideals.

This summer had been challenging. After the events at the Ministry, Fudge may still not have admitted that Voldemort was back, but more and more witches and wizards were. It was hard not to with Skeeter – she scowls at just the name of that woman – having photographs. The Prophet still refuses to publish it though, so they are left with the Quibbler.

Plus there was the one Death Eater neatly tied up at the Ministry.

Harry wavers between being happy that Sirius wasn’t actually being held at the Ministry and annoyed that Professor Snape was the one to help them. He thinks that their Professor gave the Death Eaters advance notice before the Order sprung the trap and that is why Malfoy’s father wasn’t caught.

But Hermione is not sure what to think.

Because of course there is information they are not privy to.

Eventually she finds her boys in a compartment near the back of the train. “Hi Harry,” she greets them when she opens the door. “Hi Neville.”

They smile at her and she sits down with them. She is not sure how they managed to have a compartment car all to themselves but she is definitely not complaining. Both of them are stretched out across the seats, but Harry is slightly shorter so she sits by him.

“Hey ‘Mione, how was the meeting?” Neville asks.

She knows what he’s asking. “Colin Creevey and Romilda Vane are the Gryffindor fifth-year prefects this year,” she pauses briefly, glancing down at Harry. “The Head Boy is Warrington.”

“Are you fucking serious?” Harry exclaims. She sighs, she knew he was going to be angry. He thinks that Warrington is one of Malfoy’s little cronies.

But she nods. “Yes.”

Both of the boys let out identical sounds of disgust.

But she is interrupted by anything further by the compartment door opening. Ginny Weasley and Luna Lovegood stand there. They do not move from the door as it closes behind them.

“We thought you might like the latest copy of the Quibbler,” Ginny states as Luna offers them each one.

“Daddy just finished the issue,” Luna says when they thank her.

“It is being distributed this afternoon,” Ginny continues.

Hermione is anxious to flip through to see what has been printed. It is a sore point of contention between all six of them that the three of them get their news second-hand from listening in or from what has been deemed acceptable for them to know. While the other three do not.

“Have you seen Ron around?” Ginny asks.

Hermione shakes her head. She hasn’t seen him yet this year, but Neville nods. “Yeah,” Harry answers. “He was here a bit ago but he left. Didn’t say where he was going though.”

The two girls at the door nod. “We’ll find him,” Luna says. And then they are gone through the door, whispering quietly together.

Once the door is closed, she flicks her gaze between the two of them. “Did he say anything?”

Neville shakes his head. “Nothing new.”

Sighing, she flips through the pages. But there is nothing that there were not already aware of. Just more of the same. Though it does remind her of something.

“At least Sirius was able to come as himself this year to the train.”

Harry grins and his entire face lights up. With Pettigrew captured at the Ministry, they were finally able to exonerate Sirius. Though with how reckless he was, Hermione doesn’t doubt it won’t be long before he does _something_.

Though every time she tries to warn Harry, he gets upset.

“It really was fantastic, wasn’t it? He said he’s going to come see us on our first Hogsmeade weekend too.”

She looks over at Neville as Harry prattles on happily. He avoids her gaze.

*********************

The first day back at Hogwarts is always the longest. It has the sorting after all. And on average, Daphne Greengrass is pretty sure each sorting lasts approximately eight hours. Or at least it feels that way. Logically she knows that each sorting probably only lasts two, maybe three, hours at the very most. They just feel so very long.

It’s not as if they really need to watch each child be sorted. Why couldn’t they sort them ahead of time and then just announce to the hall who was in each house when they walked in?

Quick. Simple. Ten minutes maybe, maximum. Daphne had timed it in her head when she was bored during the sorting last year.

They can’t even really chat too much during it. If they get too loud the professors start glaring and she just knows they were waiting to take points from them. Professor Sprout surprisingly very stern about making sure each child is given the same focus as the last. Or, since she is Hufflepuff Head of House, maybe not so surprising.

And she is hungry. They don’t serve dinner until the last child was sorted. Couldn’t they at least put out some appetizers? Maybe some fruit? Cake?

She wonders if she hints at some of this to Draco, he would suggest his ‘idea’ to his father. Maybe the Board of Governors would put forward some new ideas then.

Doubtful, she scoffs. Pansy glances over at her and she realizes she may have done that too loud. But still, she scoffs again and ignores both Pansy and Lizbeth looking at her, the Board was more likely to try and go back to some of the more archaic rules than actually change anything for the better. Bunch of old wizards. They would probably try and bring back etiquette lessons.

Or jousting.

She pauses. Jousting might be interesting, though some of the boys might kill each other. Like Draco and Potter, or Draco and Longbottom, or Draco and . . . almost anyone. And then Draco would feign injury for approximately six months, just like in third year, and then – no more jousting. She glares down the table at him. He feels her gaze and looks at her questioningly. Fucking Draco. She shakes her head at him. He just has to ruin everything. 

How many were left to be sorted anyway? She glances up at the front. Maybe six or so? It is hard to see, since they are in sixth-year now and near the back of the table. She does have to hand it to Professor McGonagell though. That witch can stand stoically for a long time. She would never admit it to some of the others, but she thinks the Gryffindor Head of House would have made a pretty good Slytherin.

She wonders if Professor Snape will approve their schedules tonight or tomorrow morning. She’d achieved the requisite ‘O’ in Potions to advance there. Plus Defense of course, Transfiguration, Charms, Herbology, Runes and she is really hoping that they will offer Alchemy. She figures that Granger will be dying to get in the course and for her alone they will probably offer it.

Food finally appears on the table and she practically leaps up to grab a sandwich from the middle.

“Hungry Daphne?” Pansy looks over at her and raises her eyebrows.

She scowls and bites into the sandwich. Of course she is fucking hungry.

Pansy rolls her eyes at her.

“Good summer Daphne?” Ella turns to look at her.

She shrugs. “I suppose, didn’t really do too much. Mum took Astoria and I to Greece for a couple weeks. How about you?”

The other girl nods. “It was good. Same as usual I suppose.”

It is a relief when dinner and announcements are done. As expected, there is a new Defense teacher again this year. A rather tall witch that she vaguely recognizes but she can’t quite place her.

She stands up to follow Lizbeth, when Ella reaches a hand out to her arm. She raises her eyebrows and looks at her curiously. But Ella just nods down the table. “Looks like your sister has a new crush.”

Daphne twists her head to where Astoria was sitting but she has already passed them and has stopped to say hi to the sixth-year boys. She looks back at Ella, but the girl has already let go of her arm and is moving with Tracey. She watches her sister giggle.

She pushes past Pansy and grabs her sister’s arm, pulling her out of the hall with her.

“Ow, Daphne, what are you doing?”

“What are _you_ doing?” she glares at her sister. 

Her sister just smiles. “I was just saying hi.”

“Stay away from him.”

Astoria continues to smile. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

There is a rush of bodies as people push past them to get to their own houses. She turns to snap at them, when her eyes catch on something.

It is not that it is a couple kissing as they separate to go their own dorms. That is fairly common, especially on the first day back as many of them do not see each other as much during the summer. It is the couple that is kissing as they separate. Daphne can feel her jaw drop.

The warning she is trying to give her sister is briefly forgotten as she stares at the unlikely couple. She is not the only that stares at them. Theo comes into the hallway and his jaw drops too, same with Lizbeth. She sees some of the students from the other houses stare in shock too.

Eventually the couple separates. She says something to him and he smiles. He _smiles_. And gives her one last kiss before she turns to lead the new students in her house to her own dorm. He disappears into the crowd.

“What the fuck is that?” Theo breathes out.

Daphne nods in agreement then looks over at Tracey and Ella. The two girls nod at them.

They make their way back to their dorms, Pansy snapping at the new first-years as they go. Sometimes, Daphne really wonders how Pansy and Draco are the prefects in their year. Or most times. Lizbeth would have been a much better prefect. Or Ella. Or herself. Theo would have been good. Even Blaise. She knows that while Draco is near the top of the class, Pansy isn’t. And neither one of them are known to be understanding.

She is sitting next to Lizbeth and Millie on the couch. Pansy seems to be sulking about something with Draco who is chatting with Theo and Lance. Vince and Greg playing some form of game that only the two of them think is interesting. Blaise, Tracey and Ella are on the couch and chair they always claim, close enough to the rest of them that they can all hear each other, but far enough that they can pretend not to. There is only one person missing from the sixth-years.

She really wants to go up to the dorm and unpack her trunk but there is no way she is going to miss an opportunity to find out what’s going. It is obviously why the rest of them were down here too. She pauses, looking over at Vince and Greg, maybe not them.

They aren’t the only ones either. There are some others too, almost all of the seventh-years – the sole exception obvious – some of the fifth-years and a few of the fourth-years, including Astoria. She waves over at her sister.

It is a little bit later when the common room door opens and there is a flash of red. The room quiets and most of them swivel their heads over.

“Real subtle,” Blaise mutters. He raises his hand. “Ron!” he calls.

At his name, Ron Weasley nods and walks over to them. He must know they are all staring at him, but he just ignores them and sits down next to Ella, who slides over on the couch closer to Tracey. “Hey.”

Daphne looks over at Pansy. Gossip is Pansy’s area, but she is just staring. Wow, you know it’s shocking when it renders Pansy speechless from prying. She catches Lizbeth’s eye and jerks her head toward them. If Pansy won’t ask, hopefully Lizbeth will.

But it is Millie that speaks which surprises her. “How’s Hannah Ron?”

He glances over at them. “She’s good.”

They all continue to stare at him. Is that all he’s going to say? He kissed Hannah Abbott in full view of the entire school. And he says only two words.

“Never pictured you with a Hufflepuff,” Draco sneers. “Seems a little too nice for you.”

Ron smirks. “You picture me with girls often there Malfoy?”

Blaise snorts.

Before Draco can open his mouth Pansy grabs his hand and stands up. “Come on Draco, let’s go for a _walk_.” There is no missing what she means when she emphasizes walk. Daphne raises her eyebrows. Pansy is never that obvious. Draco frowns slightly at her but stands up nodding.

“Do be careful,” Ron warns, smirk still on his face. “Hannah’s on patrol tonight.”

Draco sneers but Pansy just pulls him out the door.

*********************

November 1989

“The Weasley children will be returning to school on Monday.”

Albus nodded, waiting for Minerva to continue. He had a hunch about something.

“Except for Bill. He has decided to leave and stay with his siblings.”

Just as he had assumed from the moment Scrimgeour had given him the news and he had to summon the children to his office. He knew that they had an aunt, but from what he recalled from Fabian and Gideon, it was not a good relationship.

“He’s asked about distance learning and I’ve agreed to send him some materials.”

Outside his window, he could see students milling about the grounds.

“I just wish there was something that could be done.”

He nodded at Minerva again. He wished there was something that could be done too. But Bill was seventeen, considered an adult and now the head of his household.

He just hoped that Bill Weasley was a better man than he.

*********************


	2. Chapter 2

September 1991

Another sorting. Severus hated the sorting ceremony. It was tedious and when there were over sixty children to sort it would usually last at least two hours. After this sorting though, it was bound to get longer. Closer to the sortings in his youth.

Plus there were rarely any surprises. He cast his gaze around the children waited to be sorted. His eyes picked out the faces of children he recognized due to similarties to their parents or older siblings. Macmillan – Hufflepuff. Malfoy – Slytherin. Same with Crabbe, Goyle and Parkinson. Bright red hair, another Weasley – Gryffindor. Brocklehurst – Ravenclaw. Green eyes . . .

He felt his entire body jolt.

Green eyes. But then he pulled his gaze back and saw Potter. Sneered. Gryffindor.

And the sorting proceeded with no surprises. It was slightly interesting when a pair of identical twins were sorted into separate houses, that didn’t happen too often.

“Weasley, Ronald!” Minerva called.

Severus’s head shot up. The red hair of the latest Weasley was making his way to the stool. That was the child he had been called upon to help save almost two years ago. 

He looked at the boy as he sat down and Minerva placed the hat upon his head. The child was so similar to his brothers, but lacked the easy grin the others had. Not for the first time, he wondered just what the child had seen in that restaurant.

When it was nearing a minute and the hat hadn’t shouted Gryffindor yet, he looked at Albus. The Headmaster was watching the sorting more intently than he had watched Potter’s. Minerva still looked stern, but he thought he detected a nervousness as it neared two minutes.

At the Gryffindor table, his three brothers watched. Their faces were serious and Severus found the serious looks on the twins’ faces more disturbing than any prank they had pulled thus far.

It was almost at three minutes now.

“Slytherin!”

Severus’s eyebrows shot up in surprise before he schooled his features. The boy for his part merely stood up from the stool and walked to the Slytherin table. The clapping was more subdued than others as he could see some of the other students muttering to themselves.

His brothers though. The three of them stood and clapped louder than they had for any other student yet, including Potter when he had been sorted into Gryffindor.

At his house table, Severus saw Malfoy scowl and sneer something. A few of them snickered but cast their eyes at Weasley expectantly. He smirked and opened his mouth. Whatever he said caused Malfoy’s face to go red. A few of the older students laughed.

Well, this should be interesting.

*************************

September 1996

Professor Snape starts with any seventh-years that want to revise their schedule from the year before. And then starts working his way through the sixth-years alphabetically.

And Daphne is grateful for two things. One, that her last name starts with G, so she is in the middle. She looks over at Ron and Blaise who are lounging on the couch, they are always the last ones in their entire year – not just in their house. And two, that Professor Snape does not like to chat so the conversations are brief.

He scowls at her when she squeals. “They’re offering Alchemy?”

“It would appear so. Since it is on your schedule as you can clearly read Miss Greengrass.”

She ignores the way he says the words. After five years she has grown used to it. “Thanks sir.”

Alchemy! She is ecstatic. And as she learns when she goes down to breakfast, Lizbeth, Draco, Ella and Blaise are all taking Alchemy too.

She is talking to Lizbeth when Hannah walks up to their table and sits down next to Ron.

Daphne knows she is not the only one that seems to temporarily forget that she is supposed to be eating. She sees Pansy clutch her fork and Lizbeth’s eyes widen. Across from Ron, Theo looks to be in a strange sort of disbelief and he casts his eyes down towards them. Lance widens his eyes and looks to Draco who openly sneers. 

Most of the other houses tend to avoid sitting with them, even if they are family and friends in other houses. The whole Slytherins are evil thing. Plus the rumours the last couple of years about some of the families. That definitely didn’t help. His brothers and sisters one of the few exceptions.

And now Hannah.

They all just watch in silence as Hannah chats quietly with him. And then he motions to Blaise who nods and leans over to say something that makes her laugh. Ron gestures down the table at her and Lizbeth. Hannah turns to look at them.

“You girls are taking Alchemy too?” Hannah smiles.

It is silent. Oh, they should probably talk. Help dispel the whole Slytherins are evil notion. “Yes,” Daphne confirms and Lizbeth nods in agreement.

Blaise rolls his eyes at them, but Hannah just does a little bounce in her seat. “Isn’t it exciting? Ernie and Megan are in the class too. It’s just such a big topic though. I wonder what aspects we’ll cover. Do you know who the Professor is going to be?”

Another question. “No,” Daphne answers and Lizbeth shakes her head.

Daphne can see the Hufflepuff girl’s smile dim slightly. Ron leans over to say something in her ear and she turns back to him.

Eventually he presses a quick kiss to her lips before she stands up and heads back to the Hufflepuff table. He turns back to his food in front of him.

How does he do it? He obviously knows that they are staring at him, but yet he just acts like he is completely oblivious. Draco may have been a git with the way he said it last night. But she can see what he was getting at. It’s not that he is with Hannah. It’s that he is _with_ Hannah.

It’s not until after Charms – when they walk in holding hands – that she finally cracks. Because apparently Pansy and Lizbeth are no help. They are supposed to be the gossips. How is she supposed to find out what’s going on if they will not ask? She’ll just have to do it herself then.

“Are you two together?” Daphne finds him and Blaise sitting in the common room before dinner. She stands in front of him with her hands on her hips.

Ron raises his eyebrows while Blaise throws his head back groaning. “We’re just friends,” he shakes his head, motioning between himself and Blaise.

He can be so infuriating. She has an urge to actually stomp her foot in frustration. “You know I mean Hannah.”

He smirks and holds his hand out to Blaise who slaps a coin into it. “We are,” he confirms. Would it have killed him to acknowledge it the night before? They are obviously curious. And how did that even happen? She doesn’t think she has ever seen them speak before this year.

“You couldn’t hold out a little while longer Daphne!” Blaise grumbles.

She feels her breath quicken. Her hands twitch and she drops them to her side, blinking rapidly. 

“Daphne,” the smirk is gone from Ron’s face. “I bet that you would be the one to have the guts to actually ask. That’s it.” Blaise nods seriously in agreement. 

Okay. She nods though she hates that her thoughts are that transparent.

“Yeah. And I just figured that Pansy or Lizbeth’s love of gossip would get the better of them,” Blaise says.

“It was dumb,” Ron tells her.

All right. She nods again and lets out a shuddering breath.

The two boys stand up. Ron reaches to her shoulders and turns her around. “Come on, my sisters said there’s chicken lasagna for dinner tonight.”

How do his sisters always know what’s going to be served for dinner? She groans to herself and feels foolish. His sisters. Of course. They’re friends with Hannah. Did they set him up? It seems odd that he would agree to that. 

“What kind of vegetables?” they always seem to switch up the vegetables they serve with lasagna. And she is not a fan of parsnips.

Blaise laughs.

**************************

Narcissa tries to take pleasure in the little things when she is at the Manor. With all of their _guests_ and Draco back at school, that’s all she has when she is there.

Like her garden.

Draco used to come and help her when he was a little boy, until Lucius told him that wizards do not care for how a rose smells. That is for witches. And her little boy stopped coming out to her garden with her.

“Hello Narcissa.”

She just barely refrains from jumping at the low voice.

“Antonin.” He is sitting on the bench Draco used to snuggle with her on, staring straight ahead. Why is he out here? It throws her off. Fourteen years in Azkaban did him no favours. Much like the others, he emerged gaunt and weakened. He has regained his strength, but unlike the others, his face is still lean.

“Those are a rare rose,” he continues to stare ahead. She follows his gaze. Yes it is a rare rose and one she acquired a few years ago. The white and pink flow through the petals.

She nods in agreement. She had been hoping to pass the morning in her garden before she was due to leave. But not if he is here. She has no desire to spend time with her _guests_.

He doesn’t react when she leaves. Just continues to stare ahead.

So she goes to Diagon Alley instead. Buys a few more robes, some lovely dresses. Picks up some chocolates to send to Draco in a care package. The shop is dark when she passes it, though that doesn’t mean anything. Most likely it is just a private client. Is he the one meeting them? He hadn’t been there when she picked up her packages a few days ago. It has been over two weeks since she’s seen him more than in passing. Not since the boy startled her.

What is she doing? She shakes her head. This is ridiculous. Staring at a dark shop in the middle of a street.

This time when she apparates to her sister’s home, there is light in the windows.

She is not surprised when Andy brings her in to the house and she finds Dumbledore sitting there. But she is unprepared for the second guest.

“Sirius?”

“Hello cousin.”

Exoneration agrees with him. She can still see the shadow of Azkaban in him – much like the _guests_ at the Manor she doesn’t think that shadow will ever go away. But he looks healthier than that horrid picture the Prophet was always rerunning.

They go over the same things that she went over with Andy a few days ago. Sirius scoffs a little at her reasoning, but Dumbledore just nods. “A mother’s love is a powerful thing.”

Narcissa nods, thankful that he understands. “Draco is a good boy, he-“

“Draco is a little shit,” Sirius interrupts.

How _dare_ he insult her son. “Perhaps it’s the source you’re getting your information from.”

Her cousin puffs up. “What are you saying about my godson?”

Dumbledore holds up his hands for them to calm. Both of them fall silent. It must be something from when he was their Headmaster. Even Lucius still occasionally falls into old schoolboy habits around him.

She absolutely detests someone else in her head. Even if Dumbledore does try to be more gentle than the Dark Lord. And asks Sirius and Andy to leave to give her privacy. But she is here for her son and so she opens her mind. Shows him Draco. Bella’s suggestion that she sacrifice her son in service to him. How Lucius is weak and would allow it to happen. 

But he keeps going. He keeps circling closer. Keeps coming back to the roses.

_What are you hiding? We cannot help Draco if you are hiding something._ She hears Dumbledore’s voice ask in her mind.

For Draco, she drops the last shield and then he is there.

The first memory is from a few months ago. He has her hair fisted in his hand, her back arching towards him as he thrusts into her. More. She is on her knees. Beneath him. On top of him. Over the counter in the shop.

Her face flushes when he leaves her mind. And not just because she is a married woman, or that he is much younger than she is. _You’re married Narcissa, we’re not exclusive._

“Will you tell me to stop?” the question comes out as a whisper, her gaze on the floor. Because, oh, she doesn’t want to. But if she must, she will. Draco is her focus. And she will give up anything to secure his safety.

“No.” She looks up in surprise at his answer. “We must take comfort where we can,” he stands up and looks out Andy’s front window. “But if there comes a time,” he trails off.

“Of course,” she nods.

It is late afternoon when she leaves her sister’s home. They agree on a system where she will send a note with a time when she is able to get away. Sirius will meet her at the agreed location in her note. She had hoped for Andy, but her primary contact is to be her cousin.

The elves are already serving dinner when she arrives back to the Manor.

“Where were you?” Lucius hisses when she sits down next to him.

“I arranged a lovely care package to send to Draco,” she smiles at her husband. It is the truth, she did send some sweets and chocolates, a new quill and some socks – because somehow he always seems to lose his socks – to him this afternoon.

“Ah,” the voice at the head of the table slithers down to her. Narcissa turns her smile to him, not flinching from the red eyes that look back at her. “Isn’t a mother’s love beautiful?” the question is mocking and there is some awkward laughter around the table. “How is dear Draco?”

“Well, I suppose. I imagine we’ll hear from him in the next few days. He’s probably busy getting reacquainted with all of his friends. The Nott boy is in his year, as well as the Crabbe and Goyle sons.” She drops the names in front of him. Her son is not the only Death Eater child. They may be only boys, but she will do anything to protect her son.

“When is his birthday again?” He knows perfectly well when her son will turn seventeen.

“June my Lord,” Lucius answers.

And that is her deadline to get her son away from this. Because there is no way she is allowing the skin of her son to be marred like that of her husband or sister.

******************

The first week of school goes well. Harry wastes no time in scheduling Quidditch tryouts for the following week. Neville is ecstatic that he no longer has to take Potions while Harry is upset. His ‘E’ OWL means that he is unable to continue in Professor Snape’s NEWT class. The path to becoming an Auror almost nonexistent now.

Hermione’s final class of the week is Alchemy. Fay, Dominic and Harry are taking the class as well. She had been surprised – and happy – when Harry had announced he was taking the course. When she had asked, he’d merely shrugged and said Professor Dumbledore had suggested he take it.

There are less than twenty students in the sixth-year course. The four Gryffindors, three Hufflepuffs, five Slytherins and six Ravenclaws.

The wizard that greets them at the front of the class has a large round belly and a bald head. He smiles invitingly at all of them when they take a seat. He introduces himself as Professor Slughorn and seems to have a good understanding of the topic, but goes off track at the names of his students.

“Malfoy? I knew your grandfather Abraxas, I was so sad to hear of his passing.”

“Thank you sir,” Malfoy preens at the attention. “It was very unexpected. Dragon pox you know.”

“Boot, any relation to Declan Boot?”

“Yes sir,” Terry nods, though he slouches a little in his seat and does not elaborate. He casts a half-smile over at Hermione.

“Granger? Any relation to Hector Dagworth-Granger?” the man turns his gaze to her when she answers his latest question on the work of Paracelsus.

She shakes her head and looks straight at him. “No sir.” He has already announced that he used to be the Head of Slytherin when speaking with Fawley, so she doesn’t have high hopes for this. “I’m muggleborn, you see.”

“Oh, how splendid!” Professor Slughorn brings his hands together on top of his large stomach and smiles. “Some of my greatest students were muggleborn. Always a delight!” Hermione outwardly smiles, but the tone and words remind her of her grandfather whenever she would bring home good grades in elementary school.

Harry and some of the others, those from the D.A., grin over at her. Obviously they do not hear it. But she catches the way that Lisa and Helms raise their eyebrows.

He treats Harry strangely. It is a combination of distance and warmth. But Harry just lights up when he mentions his mother. Because everyone mentions his father and what he was like in school. Even Sirius and Remus seem to gloss over his mother and talk mostly of his father. And while he loves to hear them talk, Hermione knows that he yearns to know more of his mother.

Eventually he stops going through his students pedigrees. “We will be breaking into four groups this year. Each group will focus on one large project that they will work on for the rest of the year. Be prepared to present your findings at the end of term.” The class breaks into chattering. Harry grins over at her and motions between the two of them with Dominic and Fay. “I’ve assigned you into groups,” the chattering turns into grumbling. Hermione sighs, the professors assigning the groups never seems to go well. 

“The first group has Fay Dunbar, Anthony Goldstein, Ella Helms and Ernie Macmillan.

“The second group has Mandy Brocklehurst, Megan Jones, Padma Patil, Harry Potter and Blaise Zabini.

“The third group has Dominic Bastian, Michael Corner, Lizbeth Fawley, and Lisa Turpin."

Fantastic, she groans.

“The fourth group has Hannah Abbott, Terry Boot, Hermione Granger, Daphne Greengrass and Draco Malfoy.”

And there it is. Malfoy scowls but Terry grins over at her. Aside from Malfoy, it’s a decent group. There’s Terry – obviously. Hannah is always pleasant and easy to work with. She has had very limited interaction with Greengrass, aside from some rumours last year, all she knows is that she is usually with Parkinson, Fawley and Bullstrode.

Ugh, Malfoy. Harry twists his face in sympathy at her.

They split off into their groups and Hermione grabs a quill and parchment to begin taking notes. “Okay, so it’s probably best if we set aside some time each week for us to go over everything. We need to set the topic for next class, so I figure three hours for a couple nights this week, and if we need more, we can-“

“What?” the screech is loud and Hermione looks over at Greengrass who is staring at her in complete shock. Terry and Hannah cringe a bit.

Malfoy closes his eyes and puts his fingers to his forehead. “We probably couldn’t hear the rest of what Daphne said because we’re not dogs, well,” he opens his eyes and smirks over at Hermione, “maybe Granger here is,” she scowls at him and holds her hand up to Terry. It’s quicker to not engage for these little things. “But that seems excessive.”

“Ugh, Draco, shut up,” Greengrass shakes her head at him. Interesting. Hermione is not really up to speed with the friendships within the Slytherin house. She had assumed that because Greengrass is friends with Parkinson, that she would be friends with Malfoy. She’ll have to make a note to ask Ron about them. “But, honestly,” Greengrass turns to look at her now. “That’s excessive.”

“We need to determine our topic though, and unless we all just miraculously agree,” Hermione shoots a look over at Malfoy. “It’s going to take some time.”

Malfoy scowls at her.

“What if we each think of two topics that interest us,” she glances over at Hannah when she speaks. “We then meet for an hour and decide on the final topic in the meeting.”

Both Malfoy and Greengrass nod at the suggestion. She looks over at Terry. Even he is looking at her as if it were a good idea. Fine. She sighs. “All right. We can meet tomorrow after dinner.”

“Fuck Granger,” Malfoy sneers. “That’s Saturday night. Some of us have lives.”

“You don’t,” Greengrass disagrees with a puzzled look on her face. Hannah bites her lip in amusement while Terry raises his eyebrows. 

“And you’re okay with meeting tomorrow Daphne?” Malfoy scowls at her but she looks unconcerned.

“Of course not. I don’t think that gives us enough time to come up with two topics that we are prepared to defend when you inevitably start attacking them. I propose Monday,” Greengrass looks around the table.

It works for Hermione. She would prefer they decide on a topic earlier so that she can get started, but Greengrass does have some good logic. Malfoy will definitely attack her topics. This will give her the entire weekend to prepare.

“How was Malfoy?” Harry mutters to her as they make their way through the halls. 

She shrugs. In truth, he wasn’t as bad as she had expected. Though they have an entire year to get through. And it has only been one class.

They find Neville, along with some other Gryffindors in their year, in the Gryffindor common room and the group makes their way down to the Great Hall for dinner. Hannah waves at them from where she is standing outside the Great Hall doors with Ron.

“Did any of you see that coming?” It is Genevieve that speaks.

It has already been a topic of conversation in the girls’ dorm, so the question is obviously aimed at the boys. None of the girls had seen it coming. Lavender and Parvati practically jumped on Hannah in Herbology to try and learn information. But the girl had been rather vague apparently.

There are a bunch of head shakes.

“It’s only been about a month,” Dean announces as he sits down on a bench at the table. They all turn to look at him, but he doesn’t elaborate.

Near the end of dinner, she sees Ginny and Luna stand up and go over to talk to Ron. Blaise slides down on the bench to make room for them. Harry fidgets beside her.

Without the twins here this year, they will be relying on those three – Ron, Ginny and Luna – to pass along any new information they find out. But it is difficult since they are not in Gryffindor with her, Harry and Neville. And though they may be friends, it is harder with them not being in the same house. It’s not like they could go over to them in the common room. And they have never once gone over to see him at the Slytherin table.

Hermione huffs. Most of the Slytherins would probably drop in shock if they did. She inwardly giggles. It would almost be worth it to do that to Malfoy alone.

But what if there is something that they need to know? Maybe she should suggest an enchanted coin or parchment. If they had that, they could communicate easily. 

It is not until the following night that Hermione, Harry and Neville see any of them on their own. 

They are coming in from seeing Hagrid. Neville having told her and Harry that he was upset that the two of them hadn’t taken Care of Magical Creatures this year. Hagrid seems fine when they finally leave his home and they promise that they will continue to come visit him. Though he definitely prefers Neville right now.

Ron is walking up one of the staircases. “Hey.”

“Anything new?” Harry blurts out the question.

“It’s only been a week,” Ron continues walking and the three of them move with him.

“Is that a no?” Harry asks.

“It’s a no,” Ron confirms. “I told you we would tell you if there’s anything we learn. We’ve only been back a week.”

“Yes, but how are you going to tell us?” Hermione asks. This is what she’s been thinking for the last day. Being seen constantly whispering with him will be odd. Just look at the stares Hannah was getting. And it’s even harder with Ginny and Luna since they are in a different year. It would have been easier if he sat with them in one of their classes, but he doesn’t. Sticks with Blaise for the most part. Or the other Slytherins depending on the class. And Hannah now too.

“I’ll find you,” he has not broken stride continuing up another flight of stairs.

“I was thinking if we could all have a coin or some parchment that we could enchant, that way we could just write when we-“

“No.” He stops mid-step and turns to look at her. “I’ve seen what happens when people write on parchment you provide. No.”

This argument again, she cringes. The D.A. He had refused to sign the parchment when Ginny and Luna had brought him and Blaise to one of the meetings. Told her having a paper record was idiotic. His brothers, sister and Luna had already all signed it, but looked wary at his words. Harry had interceded eventually. After Marietta had betrayed the D.A., he had been _livid_. It didn’t matter that she told him that the others would never would have betrayed the D.A., in his mind she had still put them at risk.

“It wouldn’t be like that,” she argues.

“I don’t care, it’s not happening.”

“It’s fine,” Neville takes a step upwards and smiles. “Ron said he’ll find us if there’s anything. I’m sure he will.”

“Thanks Neville. Harry,” he nods at the two boys. “Hermione,” he bites her name out at her then turns and continues going up the stairs.

**************************

Narcissa is getting rather frustrated. Almost every time she goes to her garden in the last couple of days she finds Antonin there. Sitting on the same bench and staring forward at her rose bush. And the couple times that she goes there thinking he is not there, he appears.

He hasn’t talked to her since that first day. And she is not wholly convinced he is even aware she is there. But it is frustrating. Because she just wants to be able to have a space to herself while all these _guests_ are at the Manor. Bella follows her around at times too.

Since the events at the Ministry, Severus getting word to them just in time to vacate, she is not sure what his plans are next. If he is still trying to get the prophecy. He is displeased with Lucius for failing. Especially since it appears Dumbledore is now aware of his intention to obtain the prophecy.

Not that Dumbledore told her anything. She had been rebuffed at all of her questions. She was on a need to know basis apparently. And she did not need to know. But how is she supposed to know what information is useful then?

On Sunday afternoon she meets Priscilla Farley for lunch. It has been days since she has been out of the Manor. Not since the meeting with Dumbledore. And she desperately needs this lunch. Priscilla’s youngest is in her seventh-year at Hogwarts, and like Draco, had been a prefect the previous two years. Her older daughter had been prefect as well, and ultimately Head Girl.

She does enjoy meeting Priscilla for lunch. But the best part about meeting Priscilla for lunch is that she hasn’t talked to her brother in years and her husband is not friends with Lucius. So there is nobody to confirm when they separate.

Which means she estimates she has approximately two hours before Lucius will start to wonder.

And Narcissa intends to make the most of it.

She can see one of his brothers through the front window of the shop. It is a Sunday so they will not close it completely, which is why she usually tries to avoid coming here on weekends. But it has been three weeks now.

She slips in the backdoor and up the stairs to the flat.

In almost no time his hand is twisted in her hair and she is on her knees. His other arm is against the wall behind her, his head leans on it as he watches her. He takes a step closer, widening his stance so that his legs are almost beside her. She relaxes her throat and swirls her tongue around him.

“You going to take it all?” he emphasizes his question with a thrust.

She moves her hand off the base of his cock allowing him to press further inside her mouth. He goes until he feels her gag and then pulls back. Repeats it until she places her hand back on him. Then pulls out of her mouth until only the tip is resting on her lips.

“Those new robes Narcissa?” he twists his hips so that his cock drags across her lips. She flicks her tongue out at him and nods. Feels a large jolt of arousal pool between her legs at the question. She enjoys wearing new robes to him. Because “stand up and lay on the edge of the bed.”

He doesn’t step back as she stands up. His hand remains in her hair. And his cock drags down her clothed chest.

His hand lets go of her hair when he is satisfied with how she is arranged. Her legs are spread. Her head is turned so that her cheek is pressed against the blanket on the bed. She tries not to think that it is rumpled. He throws her robes up to her waist.

Her eyes flutter. “Oh, please,” she grips at the blanket when she feels his tongue. He doesn’t even bother to pull down her knickers, just tugs them aside and presses the flat of his tongue against her.

When she moves, he grips her legs to keep her still. And he continues, sucking and licking until she is moaning. All thoughts of her _guests_ , Lucius, and even her son long gone from her mind. All she knows is how good he is making her feel.

She is so close. So close. There is a brief pause between when his mouth leaves her and “oh, fuck Bill” he slams into her with one long hard thrust. She cries out as her orgasm rolls through her. He continues fucking her through it. Hands on her hips keeping her in place as he moves.

He comes inside her with a small grunt. Just lets her knickers move back into place when he pulls out. When she props herself up on her elbows to look at him, he is leaning against the dresser. 

She lets her eyes rove over him. She had undressed him when she arrived so he is completely naked. Tall and lean. Faint freckles on his shoulders that fade into the hair on his chest. The hair narrows as it trails down to his cock, which is still partially hard and glistens with both of them. His red hair falls to his shoulders in a wave. And his blue eyes are watching her.

“How long do you have?”

She glances over at the clock. “Another hour or so still.”

He nods and steps forward.

When she leaves just a little bit over two hours later, he is lying naked on the bed watching as she gets dressed. Her eyes catch on the box beside the dresser as she grabs her knickers that he tossed over here. The box has a few black leather bound journals inside. The cover has a silver dragon that shimmers across it. She assumes it is stock for the shop. The flat is filled with such boxes. Because none of them actually use the flat for living in.

It would be perfect for Draco. Her little Dragon.

She picks up one of the journals and the silver dragon huffs golden fire.

“Go ahead.” She turns to face him, torn between asking how much it is – because it is shop stock – and knowing that she is not actually in the shop. And he is still naked. He laughs. “Just take it Narcissa. It’s fine.”

She tucks it into her robes and takes one last look at him lounging on the bed before quickly going down the stairs and apparating back to the Manor. 

**************************

Are those quills stuck in the ceiling? Daphne squints at them. Or are they just floating there? It’s a little hard to tell. She wonders if whoever did it was as bored as she is right now.

Definitely stuck in the ceiling. She’s pretty sure she can see how at least one of them is buried in the ceiling. Does Madame Pince know? It seems strange that the strict librarian would be okay with students defacing any part of the library – even the ceiling.

She twirls her own quill in front of her face. How did they do it? Did they just throw them up there with a speed charm? She taps the tip of her quill with her finger. It doesn’t seem sharp enough to lodge itself in the ceiling. Did they sharpen them first? She mimes throwing it.

“Daphne!”

She turns her head from the ceiling to find the other four looking at her. Granger seems annoyed while Draco is scowling with his arms crossed across his chest – she revises that, no he’s pouting. Boot is glaring at Draco. Hannah smiles softly at her.

“I agree with Hannah.” The Hufflepuff girl looks to be having as much fun as she is.

“Fuck, Daphne!” Draco throws his hands up in the air. “Abbott hasn’t even said anything. Were you even paying attention?”

Of course not. He and Granger have been arguing for the last half hour. And they’re only on the second of Granger’s five proposals. _Five_! They were supposed to only bring two. 

But she shrugs a little, Hannah seems to have a good head on her shoulders. “I still agree with her,” Daphne reiterates. Might as well just double down on it now. Fuck, she feels her chest tighten at that thought. Being back at school is making everything come back to the front of her mind.

Draco shakes his head and turns to look at the blond Hufflepuff. “Abbott apparently you’re talking for two. Your thoughts?”

Hannah turns to Granger. “How about we just put all the proposals down in the middle of the table? We each read them all through and then you rank your top two. But you cannot select your own.”

“I assume we’ll disguise the writing so that you can’t determine who proposed it?” Granger seems agreeable to the idea.

“Yes,” Hannah nods. See, agreeing with the Hufflepuff all worked out. Daphne wonders if she should just default to agreeing with a Hufflepuff in all disagreements. They do have a reputation for being fair.

It’s not difficult when reading through the proposals to figure out which ones are Draco’s. He kept talking about them with Pansy on the weekend. And it’s easy enough to see which ones are Granger’s, there is way too much detail. Excluding her own two, which she just jotted down quickly this afternoon, that leaves four proposals.

One of them is very similar to her own. Easy enough. That gets her first rank. And then she looks at the other three. Her eyes freeze on the last line and dart over to Hannah. Her eyes look over to Draco to see if he has made the same connection she did. She can see when he gets to the line. His jaw clenches.

She’s not surprised when that proposal is their winner. But she is surprised when it receives four votes. Because that means Draco voted for it too.

For her part, Hannah flushes when it’s revealed that one of her proposals was chosen. 

Daphne turns back to look at the ceiling as the others start to pack up their bags. She should get started on her Charms essay. But, there are six quills in the ceiling. Were they all from the same person? Or did multiple people do it? She mimes throwing it again. Or do they float it up there and burrow it into the ceiling?

“Daphne?”

She looks back to see that Hannah is standing by the table. The quill is still in front of her face pointing at the ceiling. She lowers it down to her lap. “Yeah?”

“What are you doing?”

The other three have left. Even Draco, and for all he knew they were walking back to the same spot. But Hannah is waiting politely for her response.

“I was thinking about starting on the Charms essay.”

Hannah nods. “Okay,” she pauses. “Thanks Daphne.” And then the Hufflepuff leaves too.

And Daphne does start on her Charms essay. By borrowing one text. She’ll take a look at it in her dorms. It’s the first essay of the year. Professor Flitwick is usually pretty lenient on the first one. Let’s them get used to be being back at school.

She is tucking the text into her bag when she feels someone step beside her. She looks up to see Cassius standing there. His Head Boy badge pinned to his robes. He smiles at her.

“Hi Daphne.”

Her hands fidget slightly. “Hi.”

“Are you going back to the dorms?” he moves with her when she starts walking.

She nods.

“I’ll walk with you.”

Her hands fidget again, but her breathing doesn’t quicken so she nods. 

*******************

December 1989

Bill didn’t know what he would do without Pandora Lovegood.

For all of his thoughts about staying home with Ron and Ginny and how he could get a job to help support them, as the small amount of money left by his parents would not last long, he hadn’t thought about what he would do with them during the day while he was at work.

He had managed to find a job at a small shop that straddled the border between Diagon and Knockturn Alley. The pay was what he was expecting – low – but the hours worked for him. Until he realized he couldn’t very well leave them on their own for hours each day.

Enter Pandora Lovegood.

She had been one of the many witches and wizards that had stopped by to pay their respects and half-heartedly offer if they ever needed anything.

But the evening before he was to start at the shop, when he realized he couldn’t just leave them all day, he sat down at the table and cried. Because he had no idea what to do. He couldn’t stay home with them, because they needed the money to survive, but he couldn’t go to work, because they couldn’t stay on their own yet. For Merlin sake, they were only nine and eight and had just seen their parents killed.

Which is how Pandora Lovegood found him when she knocked on the door to check on how they were doing.

She offered to have the two of them during the day while he was at work. “After all,” she smiled softly. “Ginny is the same age as my Luna. It will be good for them to have friends.”

And it seemed to work. It had only been two weeks, but already he felt he could see the good influence Luna had on them. Ginny and Ron were still quiet, but they got along well with Luna. He had even heard Ginny laugh the other day.

She had even offered to have all of them, when their brothers came home for Yule in a few days, over for dinner.

Yes, Bill didn’t know what he would do without Pandora Lovegood.

******************


	3. Chapter 3

November 1993

Theo had been awake for a little while. He had gotten up to use the washroom and then before he fell back asleep, he saw Ron creep back into the dorms.

What was he doing out so late?

It was well past curfew.

And then he heard the low hissing of words outside their dorm door. The light from the hallway illuminated Draco being pushed into the room by Gemma Farley, the Head Girl.

Theo remained very still. What was going on?

“You don’t want me to wake up Snape to tell him about this!” Gemma hissed, manhandling Draco to the washroom. She glanced around and seemed satisfied that the others were asleep.

“It was Weasley, I’m telling you!” Draco’s voice sounded thick, almost as if he had been crying.

“Ron’s in his bed. Did you see him there?” she left the door open as she grabbed a cloth and pressed it to Draco’s face.

Draco shook his head. “No, but I know it was!”

Theo looked over at Ron’s bed where he had just gotten back not long before them. It seemed likely. He should say something. He wanted to be a good friend. He did. It was just . . .

“What did you do to him then Draco? If you’re so sure it was him?” Gemma’s voice was low. She had been protective of Ron since the very first day.

And Theo paused in his thoughts. Had Draco finally figured out just what he had done last year?

“Nothing!”

He wanted to be a good friend. He did. He really did. But, just . . . not in this. In this, Ron deserved whatever revenge he had managed to get on Draco. Theo was just surprised it was private. What was it?

Draco was still talking. “I’ll tell my father about this then. Just wait until he hears.”

Gemma snorted unkindly. “You’re going to tell your father about what I saw?”

There was a long minute of silence and then Draco shook his head.

*************************

September 1996

It’s been five years and Hermione still doesn’t understand the allure of Quidditch. A bunch of people racing around on a broom dodging some balls, while throwing another and one player that tries to catch a small ball with wings. Why?

She nods encouragingly at Harry. She had helped him put together the tryout schedule the night before. And convinced him to put up a form so that people would sign-up. It would be easier to schedule that way. Especially because the other house Quidditch captains always showed up to watch.

She can see the benefits of being the house to go first. But she can also see the benefits of being the last house. If you go first, the team gets longer to get used to each other, and can watch the other houses’ trials together. But the last house can put their team together based on the strengths of the other teams.

Harry gets started on the first round of trials with the Beaters.

The other house captains are at the bottom of the stands. The two returning captains, Cassiope Delancey from Ravenclaw and Phillippe Marcotte from Hufflepuff at opposite ends of the same stand. Each of them have a few of their respective teams’ players from the previous year around them. She can see Ginny and Luna – even though Luna wasn’t on the team – at the back.

On the other side of the pitch is Malfoy. He has Bole and Nott beside him even though they were not on the team the previous year, which is how she knows he is taking this seriously. Helms sits behind them looking miserable. Crabbe and Goyle are nowhere to be seen.

As she watches them, she can see Ron, Blaise and Davis settling in beside Helms. Malfoy turns around to face them with an irritated expression. Blaise openly laughs as Ron smirks and the girls grin. Even Nott looks to be hiding a smile. 

But Ron starts talking and then Malfoy spins back to look at the pitch. His eyes narrow. The smirk drops from Ron’s face but his mouth keeps moving, his eyes focused on something, and Malfoy nods slowly. 

Hermione scans the pitch but she cannot figure out what they are looking at. Slightly irritated that she has been wasting time watching Malfoy, she opens up her book.

Once tryouts are done and Harry dismisses everyone, he flops down beside her and Neville. The other captains slowly dispersing.

“What do you two think?” the question is directed to both of them out of sheer politeness. She smiles as she reads her text.

Neville sighs. “Cormac is the best Keeper again.”

Harry grumbles in agreement. Hermione understands where he’s coming from. Cormac is brash, loud and constantly getting caught up in some form of dare. She is actually surprised that he hasn’t managed to land himself in the hospital wing yet with some ridiculous dare. Last year he was in there the first week of classes. They are now almost done the second week.

Last year their original Keeper had been a third year that even Hermione knew wasn’t good. Cormac joining partway through the season. They still lost in the final game to Hufflepuff.

She zones out of their conversation when they begin to discuss the Chasers.

They continue discussing Quidditch the rest of the night and then the entire tower is discussing it when Harry announces the team the following morning. She just does not understand the point of the game. At least both Dean and Seamus are happy, the two of them having made the team this year. Only Dean had been on the team last year.

In the second Alchemy class of the year Professor Slughorn greets them all with a jovial smile before they can sit down. “Please take a seat with the group you will be working with throughout the year.”

Is he serious? It was bad enough that she has to have Malfoy in the same group as her for the entire year, but now she has to sit with him too? There are four circular tables set up around the room. Harry shoots her a sympathetic smile then takes a seat next to Padma.

At least there is Terry. He smiles at her as they take a seat. Hannah sits down on the other side of her. Greengrass beside Hannah and then Malfoy between Greengrass and Terry. She looks around the table and nods. This set up shouldn’t be too bad.

“We should start meeting for a couple hours one night a week and can increase it from there if needed.” Hermione brings out her planner and ignores the grumble she hears from Malfoy. “Do Tuesday evenings after dinner work for everyone?”

Terry and Hannah nod, but Malfoy shakes his head. “Quidditch.”

Greengrass shakes her head. “There’s no Quidditch Tuesday. Astoria said it’s Wednesday.”

“Tuesday is the Hufflepuff tryouts,” Hannah explains and Greengrass rolls her eyes.

“I assume that means Sunday is out since that’s Ravenclaw,” Terry comments. Malfoy glares at him but doesn’t disagree.

Hermione really doesn’t understand the importance that is placed on Quidditch. “Fine. Fridays?”

“I’m not spending Friday nights with you,” Malfoy sneers.

“Then suggest a day Draco!” Greengrass crosses her arms on the table and lays her head on them. “Or,” she turns her head. “Hannah, what day would you suggest?”

Hannah frowns slightly and glances around the table. “Mondays?”

The only person that doesn’t nod is Malfoy, who pauses. “Oh, for fuck’s sake Draco, you don’t have anything on Mondays,” Greengrass snaps.

He scowls at her. “Fine.” Hermione really does need to remember to ask Ron about them the next time she sees him. Greengrass is definitely not falling in line behind Malfoy like the other Slytherins she normally sees him with. “But not next week, we can start the week after.”

Whatever, Hermione sighs and nods. Terry tilts his head at her.

Greengrass smiles at Hannah and mumbles something under her breath. 

**************************

It’s not that Daphne doesn’t like Quidditch. She does. Really, she does. It is fun to watch and some of the maneuvers really are amazing. 

It’s just that . . . sometimes it goes on for too long. Because really, any game that lasts more than two hours has gone on too long. And practices? Who wants to watch a bunch of people run through drills? Give her a game – a _good_ game – and she’s in.

But Astoria is trying out for Chaser this year and she told her sister that she would watch. So she treks down to the Quidditch pitch with Millie to cheer on her sister. After the first night, Daphne hasn’t seen Astoria talk to him again so maybe it was just her sister being polite. She really hopes so. Otherwise that conversation that she’ll have to have will just be so awkward.

She starts climbing the stairs and wonders what the tryouts will be like. They have already caused quite the drama this year. Draco is taking his duties as captain very seriously. And told Vince and Greg that they two of them will have to try out like everyone else. It had not gone well. 

Especially since Ella is basically guaranteed her previous spot as a Chaser. But Ella is actually a good player, Vince and Greg were . . . not as good. Daphne scans the pitch and sees her hovering on a broom behind Draco.

She settles down next to Pansy, hoping her friend is in a decent mood, Millie on her other side. She is not so delusional that she thinks she will be in a good mood. But decent is a possibility.

“Hey Pansy,” she greets.

The other girl grunts out a reply. And there goes decent. What is Pansy’s deal – she cringes at her phrasing and feels her chest tighten – what is Pansy’s problem this year? Draco looks as confused as anyone else so they can’t be going towards one of their inevitable break ups. Plus she keeps dragging him out with her for _walks_.

Millie rolls her eyes.

Lizbeth is also trying out for Chaser this year as is Lance. She shakes her head. Lance would definitely make a better Beater than a Chaser, just like his bro-

She cringes and feels his chest tighten. Stop thinking, stop thinking. She lets out a breath. But Lance doesn’t want to upset Vince and Greg too much by trying out for one of the positions they held. Blaise however, has no such problem and has loudly and repeatedly announced his intention to try out for one of the positions they held.

Scanning the stands she sees the other Quidditch team captains setting in to watch with their players. Hufflepuff won last year, Ron’s sister just barely beating Potter to the snitch. The year before the season had been cancelled on account of the Tri-Wizard Tournament. Third year Gryffindor had won. Second year Hufflepuff. First year was Ravenclaw.

Which is probably why Draco is taking his duties as captain very seriously. He wants to win. And end the Slytherin drought in something. The last five years have seen no House Cup, no Quidditch Cup. It would just be nice to win _something_.

They all feel that way she thinks, watching as Ron walks on to the pitch and stops next to the hovering Ella for a moment, before standing next to Draco. The two of them converse for a few minutes and then Draco gets started.

“Looks strange,” Millie comments. 

Daphne doesn’t need to ask what she means. It is strange seeing them talk without any smirks or insults. “Maybe they just needed to find something in common,” she suggests.

There’s a snort behind her and she turns to see Theo sitting on the bench behind them. From slightly further down, Tracey looks over with interest.

She tilts her head curiously at him but he doesn’t say anything and his eyes remain fixed on the Quidditch pitch. Fine, she shrugs, and turns back around. It’s probably some stupid boy thing anyway.

**************************

“So, you called me here to tell me that a known Death Eater visited his Master?”

Narcissa closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. This is exactly why she wishes that Andy is her contact. Andy would understand the significance, while Sirius just looks doubtful.

“I am telling you that Thoros Nott has been coming to the Manor almost daily for the last week. That he has been having private meetings with the Dark Lord.”

The first time Thoros had come to the Manor, she had not thought anything of it. After all, Thoros goes back with him almost to the beginning. He predates Lucius in the Inner Circle by years. When he came back the next day, it still wasn’t too strange. But by the fourth she knows there is something.

So she sends a note to her cousin and he meets her in the back fields behind their grandfather’s northern estate. It’s where she used to watch both boys play when her sisters got too old to spend as much time with her.

Sirius however just looks at her. If he recalls running through the fields with his brother he doesn’t let on. Finally he sighs. “Do you know what they talked about?”

A slight shake of her head. “Not yet.” She assumes that eventually they will say something, but they have not said anything yet. Lucius of course is still trying to get in the Dark Lord’s favour from his previous failure and would most likely not be one of the first people brought in. But Bella seems to be in the dark as well.

“Anything else?” Sirius leans against a tree and rubs his hand across his forehead. It is not difficult to tell that he does not want to be the one to meet with her.

She is about to shake her head but then reconsiders. It may not be anything, but if they will not tell her what she should be looking for, they will get this mundane information as well. “Antonin Dolohov is acting strange.”

At that Sirius actually laughs. “I think we would be more concerned if that deranged murderer weren’t acting strange.”

“He sits in my garden and stares at a rosebush for hours.”

Her cousin raises his eyebrows. “Ah, so I assume that he is disturbing your time there?” he laughs again at her expression. “You always loved being in the gardens, I doubt that much has changed.” It is the closest he has come to referencing their childhood.

Instead of going straight back to the Manor she apparates to Diagon Alley first and does some quick shopping. She sees his twin brothers through the window of the shop. They are newly graduated. Are all of them going to work in the shop? Even the one that works at the Ministry seems to be there on the weekends.

She examines the shop for a moment as she watches Jasper Selwyn enter it. It irks at Lucius that more and more of his associates use Worlong’s Wonders as the go-between for sales. But unlike Burke they have never been searched and they stay away from the illegal objects. And even if they were to dabble there, what Ministry official would want to be the one seen raiding them after what happened to the parents.

Arthur and Molly Weasley were not the only ones killed in the attack seven years ago. But there were the ones that everyone remembers. They were the only couple killed, of the five others killed, two worked at the restaurant, one was another parent and two were the first Aurors on the scene.

And of course they left seven orphaned children.

Plus the rumours of what exactly happened in that restaurant during those hours before the Aurors finally broke the wards.

The Prophet ran photos for weeks. Narcissa can still recall some of them. The family photo from only a few months before, all nine of them with bright grins. An early wedding photo with the Prewett brothers alongside their sister. The seven children huddled together at the funeral.

She turns her gaze back to the shop and sees him come out from the back to greet his brothers. She hadn’t known him then of course. He had barely been more than a child, just old enough to care for his siblings. 

What is she doing? She needs to stop standing in the street.

When she apparates back to the Manor, she finds Antonin in her gardens again.

********************

Hermione didn’t know how much she would miss Harry and Neville beside her in Potions until they weren’t there. It felt strange not muttering instructions to Neville throughout the class. And Harry, she sighs, he really had been disappointed. Professor McGonagell had apparently tried to talk to Professor Snape but the wizard hadn’t budged in his position.

He would not accept NEWT students that didn’t score an ‘O’ on their OWL.

Which means that Potions is her smallest class. There are only ten of them in class. She is the lone Gryffindor, Ernie the lone Hufflepuff. Four Ravenclaws, Terry, Padma, Mandy and Lisa. And she scowls, four Slytherins, Malfoy, Nott, Greengrass and Helms.

Professor Snape has them brewing a Draught of Living Death.

As usual he has scrawled the instructions on the board, but she is having difficulty with one of the last lines. Does that say two or seven anti-clockwise turns? She squints. Maybe one? It’s like Professor Snape’s arm slipped while writing it and he didn’t bother to fix it.

The difference between two and seven is huge. She raises her hand.

“The instructions are on the board Miss Granger,” he drawls. “Based on the length of your essays, I assume you know how to read.”

“Sir, in the last –“

“Read the board Miss Granger.”

She turns to Ernie to find him squinting at the board as well. Looks behind her to see Terry shrug and Padma biting her lip. Well, they are obviously no help either.

If all of them are having difficulties he cannot say it is just her. And she raises her hand again.

“Read the board Miss Granger,” he repeats.

“But sir –“

“Five points from Gryffindor for talking out of turn.”

She scowls at him. When she first found out he was a spy for the Order, she thought that his demeanour at Hogwarts must be part of his cover. After all, what kind of person is that miserable? But then he was still miserable when they saw him at Grimmauld. And Sirius told them that he has always been miserable. Although, she can admit, Sirius is coloured by his own opinion from his school days.

“Sir,” Helms raises her hand and Professor Snape looks over at her. “Is it two or seven anti-clockwise turns.”

Their professor’s dark eyes settle on the student in his house for a moment before he answers. “Seven.”

“Thank you sir.”

Is that so difficult for him? Maybe it’s a good thing that Harry isn’t in the class. He probably would have already ended up with detention this year.

She is still stewing about the class after dinner when she follows Harry and Neville out on to the grounds. She has patrol later that night, but thankfully she is paired with Anthony. Her first rounds with Malfoy aren’t for weeks yet.

They look over in slight surprise when Ron, Ginny, and Luna sit down beside them.

“Anything new?” Harry looks eager. It is still two weeks before the first Hogsmeade weekend when they will see Sirius. And hopefully Sirius will tell them information. He became remarkedly close-lipped over the summer.

“Well, hello to you too. Lovely to see you all,” Ron says instead. “Can’t we just stop by to say hello? I’m beginning to think you’re just using us.”

“You’re the one that stopped talking to us,” Neville argues.

“You put my family at risk,” Ron states with a small shrug.

Hermione sighs. If two months away hadn’t softened his anger about that, she’s not sure anything ever will.

Ginny shoves at her brother’s shoulder. “Daddy’s rerunning your interview Harry,” Luna says.

All three of the Gryffindors frown. Why would they rerun an interview that is over six months old at this time?

“More people are starting to believe you Harry,” Ron expands. “But not everyone has read your original interview.”

Oh, Hermione supposes that does make a kind of sense. But it also just means that Harry is about to get all sorts of attention again. Ah, and she realizes that is why the three of them came to tell them about it. They are trying to make sure that Harry is prepared for the attention.

Harry lets out a sigh. “Thanks then,” he mutters. There is a brief silence before he speaks again. “I didn’t know you played Quidditch.”

Yes, Hermione had heard about that when Harry returned from the Slytherin tryouts. And announced that Ron had played Keeper during the tryouts. He and Malfoy looking like they were actually getting along.

“Who do you think plays with me at home?” Ginny asks, peering around her brother at them. “All of my brothers play. Even Percy,” she responds before they can say anything. “He just prefers not to.”

Ron smiles at his sister as he goes to stand up. “May the best Weasley win this year Gin.”

She grins. “I intend to. Again.”

They are about to leave and Hermione almost forgot again. “I wanted to ask you about Greengrass.”

Ron’s smile drops as he turns to look at her. “What about her?”

“She’s in my Alchemy group,” he doesn’t say anything, just looks at her. Right, he probably knows that already, since Hannah is also in their group. “I almost get the feeling she doesn’t like Malfoy.”

“Malfoy is a prat.”

“I don’t really know too much about her,” she says.

And then Ron tilts his head as he understands what she’s looking for. “You’re asking me for information on Daphne.” She nods. She was just so curious! But Ron shakes his head instead. “No.”

“It’s just I don’t really know much about her, aside from some rumours last year.” And she hadn’t been able to make sense of those. There had been something about the older Bole and Montague. She sighs again. “How much?”

He ignores her question. “I would think of all people, you three would know not to listen to rumours,” he says instead and then he is leaving with his sister and Luna.

It’s not until after her patrol with Anthony that Hermione is finally able to get rid of the stress she was starting to feel from the day. She has definitely had better birthdays.

She braces one hand on the desk behind her to keep her upright. The other twists in Terry’s hair. “Fuck,” she groans and holds his head in place against her. His tongue presses, he sucks and she comes with a long moan.

Distantly she hears the clink of his belt as he stands up. He nudges her legs further apart as he steps between them. And then he pushes inside her and starts thrusting.

Hermione throws her head back. This is definitely a good way to end her birthday.

*******************

It is the third time this year that Cassius has walked with her back to the Slytherin dorms. After the first time from the library, he walked with her after dinner in the Great Hall and now after the disaster of a session that is her Alchemy group. Draco and Granger just kept sniping at each other.

Daphne is not sure why Cassius is walking her back again. Aside from the fact that they are both in Slytherin, he never really spoke to her too much in previous years. But her hands don’t fidget at all this time and they only did a little the second time.

The previous two times they had mostly walked in silence. But her hands aren’t fidgeting this time, and her chest still doesn’t tighten. And that is good. Maybe it means that this year will be better.

So this time she initiates conversation. “How do you like being Head Boy?” That was a ridiculous question, he has probably gotten asked it a bunch of times already. 

But he smiles at her. “I think it’s good so far. More responsibility of course and you have to make sure that all the prefects get along,” she cringes for him, that can’t be easy, as clearly evidenced by her recent experience with Draco and Granger in the library. “But it does look good on applications for once NEWTS are done,” he pauses. “You know Daphne, I’m surprised that you weren’t a prefect.”

She shrugs. “It’s Pansy.” For some strange reason. She seems to be in a foul mood so far this year. The sole first-year that came to ask her a question left in tears.

They continue chatting as they make their way down to the Slytherin dorms.

At one of the last hallways, she spies a flash of red and excuses herself from Cassius. She can see him look down the hallway where Ron sits on the stairs, but he just nods and continues to the dorms. Daphne takes a seat next to him and feels her hands fidget with what she is about to say. He remains silent waiting for her to talk.

“I think Astoria has a crush on Lance,” she finally says. He doesn’t react beyond turning to look at her. “I know that he’s not his -,” she cuts herself off and takes a deep breath. “I just-“ she stops again and looks down at the floor.

“I’ll tell you if I hear anything.”

She nods, thankful he understands what she was getting at. She’s not sure how much Astoria has heard about last year – she certainly never told her anything. And she knows that Lance is not him, but it is just too close.

“How much?”

“Don’t worry about it.”

She shakes her head. “I don’t want your pity.” The thought that people pity her makes her chest hurt. And makes her want to hide away.

“It’s not pity, it’s common decency,” she looks up from the floor to find his blue eyes still on her. “Something they lacked.” She nods but still feels a sting starting behind her eyes. And she hates that she is so obviously transparent.

“How was your group project session?” he asks.

She blinks in surprise at the abrupt change in topic. How did he – oh, right, Hannah. It is really going well with defaulting to Hannah for decisions. She chose their day that works for everyone and seems as frustrated as she is, since “Draco and Granger are really annoying.”

His mouth twitches. “Yeah, I believe that. They are remarkably similar people. Not that either one sees it.”

Daphne considers their interactions and nods. She can see that. “They both have to be right!”

He nods and then tilts his head towards her. “Hermione was asking about you.” Daphne freezes, she can feel herself start to fidget again. “I think she was just trying to figure out why you didn’t like Malfoy. She doesn’t like not knowing things,” he nudges her arm, “much like Malfoy.” 

She doesn’t smile though. She doesn’t think he would, but then last year, she didn’t think –

“I told her no,” she nods at his words, his gaze still on her face. “That information isn’t for sale Daphne.”

Okay. She looks down and flattens her hands on her lap. She believes him. She does. It’s just this is the closest she has come to discussing it and she really doesn’t want to discuss it. But what else could she say? She just needs to change the subject. What is there? Oh! Defense!

“Why does Professor Bishop seem to hate you?” Their new Defense Professor takes points from him in every class so far. The last one had been because Blaise dropped his textbook on the floor beside him and she thought it was Ron. She had figured out why the witch looked vaguely familiar, she worked at the DMLE. Daphne assumes that she has seen her there while visiting her mother.

Ron’s mouth twitches up. “Why do you think she hates me?”

She narrows her eyes. Why would she – “Oh! Which brother?” And Daphne knows she is right, when he raises his eyebrows with a smirk and holds his hand out. She laughs. Of course! “How much?”

He seems to consider her. “A knut.”

She rolls her eyes with another laugh and digs into her bag. That must be the cheapest she’s ever heard. “Oh, wow, you’re just giving it away aren’t you?”

“You hitting on me Daphne?” she looks back up to see him wink at her. “Sorry, I’m not giving that away this year.”

That she has heard. Lizbeth talking in low whispers with what she heard from Geraldine. But she had already asked him about Hannah that first week. Not that she told Lizbeth or Pansy about it. If they didn’t ask, that was on them.

Shaking her head, she slaps the knut into his outstretched hand. He puts it in his pocket. “Bill,” he answers and then pauses briefly. “I think . . . might be Charlie. Things blur.”

No wonder the information was so cheap. She rolls her eyes again as his mouth ticks up.

*********************

September 1991

The train was rather full. Harry didn’t know where he could sit. Everywhere he looked it was as if all these kids already knew each other. He had been really hoping it would be different than his other school.

But then he passed a compartment and saw three of the red-heads from the platform there. It was the twins and the boy who looked to be his age. They seemed all right earlier.

He knocked and pulled the door open. “Hi, do you mind if I sit in here? It’s just most of the other places are full.”

One of the twins smiled and gestured for him to take a seat. “I’m Fred,” he introduced.

“No, I’m Fred, you’re George!” the other twin argued.

“No, you’re George!”

“Well one of us is Fred, and one of us is George,” they both smiled at him.

“I’m Harry,” he said.

They all looked expectantly at the youngest red-head in the compartment. “Ron,” he stated.

The compartment opened and a black boy with long dreadlocks stepped in. He greeted the twins and Ron before taking a seat. “Don’t think I know you?”

“He’s a first year, like Ron,” one of the twins explained. Harry wasn’t sure if he would ever be able to tell them apart.

“I see, I’m Lee Jordan,” the boy held out his hand.

“Harry Potter.”

Lee’s eyes widened. The twins and Ron also widened their eyes. Hagrid had told him enough about what happened that he knew his name was recognizable, and he shifted uncomfortably. He wondered if they would say anything.

It looked as if Lee was about to say something, but one of the twins beat him to it. “Thinking about what house you would like to be sorted in?”

Harry shrugged. “Can’t say I really know too much about the houses. How do you get sorted?”

“Well,” Lee grinned. “They have to make sure you’ll be able to fit-“

“It’s a hat,” Ron interrupted.

The smile dropped from Lee’s face as he turned to the twins. “Really?”

The twins shrugged in unison.

“What do you mean?” Harry asked, turning to look at Ron.

The boy fixed his blue eyes on him. “They put a hat on your head. It talks and sorts you into a house.”

That felt fairly anticlimactic for all of this talk of magic. But he relaxed slightly. “What house are all of you in?”

“Gryffindor of course!” the twins and Lee high-fived each other.

“All of you?” Harry asked.

“Well, Ron is a first year, like you,” the twin closest to him put a hand on his brother’s shoulder. “So he hasn’t actually been sorted yet.”

“But he’s a Weasley, and Weasley’s are always Gryffindors,” Lee grinned.

The twins remained still while Ron looked out the window.

“Hello, have any of you seen a toad?” they turned their attention to a short, dark-skinned girl with large curls at the compartment door. “A boy has lost his.”

*************************


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As seen already, there are original characters throughout this to expand the world.

June 1996

Severus stared at the students in front of him. “Of course I have other ways of contacting the Order though I fail to see why it is necessary for me to do so just because Potter had a bad dream,” he sneered at the boy.

He could see Potter’s hands clench at his sides. “It wasn’t a dream! Sirius is in trouble!” the Gryffindor boy turned to his friends. “I told you this was a waste of time!”

His dark eyes took in the eight children in front of him, five Gryffindors, two Hufflepuffs and a Slytherin. It made for an odd grouping. And not difficult to see where the divisions in the group lay. A sea of red with a single blond to one side. Potter, Longbottom, and Granger to the other. A fracture had definitely occurred.

“Sir,” Ron stepped forward and met his eyes. Severus stifled the urge to shoot his eyebrows up in surprise. This was serious wasn’t it? “Surely just a check can’t hurt? If all is well, then they seem to be planning to lure Harry there for _some_ reason.”

He glared at the boy, along with his siblings and Lovegood at his side. It was obvious that the eldest Weasley’s shared the information with their siblings. He told Albus it was foolish to let them in. They lacked maturity and common sense as evident by the cavalier way his owls home were treated.

But the child did have a point. And those twins were much too serious. “Very well. Wait here.”

********************

September / October 1996

Hermione places her fingers on the sides of her head and rubs as she lets out a long exhale. “Malfoy, you were supposed to start research on the transformative properties of copper.”

He scoffs. “That won’t get us anywhere. It was a ridiculous suggestion. It’s better to examine silver.”

She lets out another long breath and feels Terry nudge her leg. “Silver has been researched to death. We need to broaden our scope or we are only going to tread on the same ground as everyone else. That won’t get us anywhere.”

“Yes, but that research has been primarily focused on prolonging life or reversing aging. We’re not looking to do either of those.”

“But we are looking to heal and that has been closely related to the reversal –“

“Oh, for fuck’s sake!” the yell is from Greengrass and Hermione looks over to see her staring up at the ceiling again. At the silence, the Slytherin girl frowns and turns her head to find them all looking at her. “What?”

Malfoy runs a hand down his face. “You said it out loud Daphne,” he sighs.

“Oh,” Greengrass twists her face. And Hermione thinks for a moment at just how different she is from Parkinson or Bullstrode, even her experiences with Fawley to an extent. And she is still so curious as to those rumours! Even Lavender and Parvati hadn’t heard anything more. “Let’s just call it a night,” she suggests.

They can’t call it a night! They haven’t even figured out what they researched last week apparently because Malfoy is ridiculous, let alone the coming week. The prat agrees to one thing and then does something completely different. It puts their entire project at risk of being behind. “We haven’t decided on next steps.”

“Let Draco go off on his tangent, it will shut him up.” Malfoy scowls at Greengrass but she looks unconcerned.

It seems like a decent idea and Greengrass does seem to have a handle on him. She supposes it has the potential to work. She shrugs. “Fine.”

And it does work because Malfoy finally stops arguing with her. They finalize the tasks for the following week, aside from Malfoy who will be on his little tangent, and begin to pack up. Terry catches her eye and she nods. These sessions do tend to cause her stress, it will be nice to –

“Where did you get that?” the blunt question is from Hannah and startles her. Hermione looks over to see thr Hufflepuff girl staring at Malfoy’s books with a strange look on her face.

He frowns, glancing down. “Get what? The books? Well, Abbott, I know that being with Weasley has probably brought down your intelligence, but we are in the library, that is where-“

“No,” Hannah interrupts him and Hermione raises her eyebrows. She doesn’t think she has ever heard Hannah interrupt anyone. They are all looking at her in surprise now, even Malfoy looks at her quizzically. “That,” she gestures to a black journal that is in the middle of Malfoy’s stack of books.

A little surprisingly it is Greengrass that answers. “It was in the last care package his mum sent him.”

Hannah’s brow furrows. The response seems to confuse her slightly. What is the big deal about a black journal? The Hufflepuff opens her mouth to say something but then seems to think better of it and leaves the table without another word.

Malfoy frowns at her retreating figure, obviously trying to figure out what just happened, before he leaves without a word to any of them. Greengrass rolls her eyes and then with a small nod to the two of them, she leaves as well.

“That was odd right?” Terry turns to her and she nods.

It does do wonders to relieve her stress from the day when he thrusts into her. She places her elbows on the desk of the classroom they are in and curves her back slightly. He places a hand beside her on the desk and the other grips her hip.

She comes with a low groan when he slides his hand from her hip, across her stomach and then down to rub against her. He is not long after her and then collapses against her back.

A good orgasm really does do wonders to relieve her stress.

Until she arrives back at the dorms to find Harry and Neville waiting for her anxiously outside the portrait door. They appear to the side of the hallway when they throw off the invisibility cloak.

She frowns at them. “What are you two doing out here?”

“I met with Dumbledore again,” Harry answers, pulling her in under the cloak and starting to walk down the hallway. 

This is the second time he has met with the Headmaster so far this year. The first meeting was at the beginning of the year when he suggested that Harry take Alchemy. 

Oh, she sighs, _Alchemy_. Hermione doesn’t think she has ever come across a professor quite like Professor Slughorn before. Like Professor Snape he does play favourites, but his favourites are not all from Slytherin. She seems to be one of his favourites, same with Harry - to an extent. Malfoy, a few others, including Blaise and Terry. For others, it’s as if he has difficulty remembering their names, he calls Helms Hess and Dominic Bennett.

And of course at the end of June Professor Dumbledore had told him of the contents of the prophecy. She still doesn’t know what to make of it, but grips Harry’s arm in one hand and Neville’s arm in the other. It feels odd but it’s like they were meant to be linked.

Once they are in the small alcove down the hallway, Harry starts talking. “He showed me a memory of Voldemort’s mother.”

********************

Cassius sits down next to her at breakfast.

Daphne keeps buttering her toast though she knows that he is looking at her. He has walked with her a few more times back to the dorms and sometimes chats with her at meals. Asks her how classes are going. Mundane things.

And she thought she was fine, but then her hands started fidgeting the last time he walked with her. She knows – _she knows_ – it was an off-hand comment and that he didn’t realize it.

But still her hands fidgeted.

So she takes a deep breath and concentrates on the knife buttering her toast. It seems steady.

“Hi Daphne.”

She looks over at him and smiles. “Hi Cassius.”

“The first Hogsmeade weekend is in a few days. Do you have any plans?”

Oh, even though he has been walking with her back to the dorms and talking to her at meals, the question catches her off-guard. She is not an idiot so she knows why he would be asking her if she has plans. Out of the corner of her eye, she sees Lizbeth smile at her encouragingly.

Does she want to? If she says she has plans, it lets him down gently. But he has been very nice. And he was never friends with any of them.

“Just an early lunch with my parents and Astoria,” she answers.

He smiles at her. “Would you like to meet me after? I was going to offer to take you to lunch, but instead we can just walk the village or visit the shops?”

That sounds nice. And her hands aren’t fidgeting. Lizbeth’s smile gets bigger and she can see a couple of the other girls smile at her too. “Yeah, okay.”

“Great! I can meet –“

“What the fuck is this Weasley?” Draco’s loud voice startles them.

Daphne looks over to see that Draco is standing over Ron and has thrown something down on his plate. Standing beside Draco are Vince and Greg, who are doing their best to appear menacing. They are not succeeding. Blaise leans over to see what was thrown down and cringes.

Ron peers down with an exaggerated expression of examination. He nods to himself. “Well Malfoy, the words and pictures as well as the overall style indicate that it appears to be a newspaper.” He picks it up and Daphne sees that it looks like an issue of the Quibbler.

Oh, fuck.

There is a widening of eyes around them and a small flutter of excitement. What is in it this time?

Ron makes a show of turning it over in his hands and flipping through it. “Yes, definitely a newspaper.” He holds it out to Draco who looks at him with loathing.

“They reprinted that fucking article,” Draco hisses. “It is nothing but a load of lies.”

Daphne isn’t sure who the small gasp is from. The Ravenclaw table beside them has grown quiet as they watch.

“All right,” Ron agrees. He tucks the paper into the pocket of Draco’s robes and turns back to his food.

“The wizard is a fucking nutter. My father will fucking ruin him,” there is no further reaction from Ron as he reaches to the centre of the table to grab another biscuit. “Him and his fucking lunatic daughter.”

This time there is almost a collective gasp. Daphne’s eyes widen.

Ron is out of his seat almost immediately. Draco stumbles back a step and his eyes dart downwards. Vince and Greg’s eyes widen and they hastily put some distance between them. Ron’s wand is in his hand as he takes the step so that he is right in front of Draco.

“Care to repeat that?” Ron’s voice is low, but it is so quiet at the Slytherin table that none of them have to strain to hear him. 

“I said-“

But then Cassius is beside them. Daphne frowns. When did he get up? “This is not the place for this,” he reminds them quietly, a hand on each of their shoulders and gestures to the rest of the hall.

It seems to bring Draco back and he begrudgingly nods. But Ron doesn’t react until Draco is walking back out of the hall. His blue eyes flash before he sits back down and continues eating like nothing happened.

Cassius gives her a small wave and then follows Draco, Vince, and Greg out the Great Hall doors.

Daphne sighs again. Some of them are definitely going to be in bad moods for the next little while. For a supposedly tabloid paper, it sure seems to ruffle some feathers.

Almost, she glances at Ron who is now talking quietly with Blaise, almost as if it were true.

************************

Lucius is in a good mood. A celebratory mood.

“I think this is it Narcissa.” He smiles over at her from where he is pouring them each a glass of wine.

She smiles back at him.

He has completely ruined her plans for the afternoon.

He was supposed to be at the Ministry until this evening. And so she had made other plans. Her eyes dart over to the clock. She hopes whatever he has to say will not take long. As long as she leaves within the next hour.

But what if it is information that will be helpful?

She inwardly sighs and looks back at her grinning husband. His hair is tied back with a ribbon he knows she likes and he is wearing what she knows he thinks of as his lucky robes.

He is obviously expecting them to celebrate together.

There is a pang in her chest. But this is for Draco.

“Oh?” she takes the glass of wine he offers her and takes a seat on her bed. She places her hand on the spot beside her. Meeting his eyes, she removes her hand slowly from the bed to her lap.

His brown eyes light up and he eagerly follows her. “Yes,” he nods and takes a sip from his glass. “Thoros has come to me asking about the Hogwarts Board of Governors.”

Ah, she nods along with him. Although outwardly Fudge and other members of the Ministry claim to not believe the rumours or that article that the Quibbler reprinted – _again_ – they have held him at an arm’s length. 

But he is still on the Board.

“He has an idea to remove Dumbledore.”

This again? Narcissa smiles at him. They have tried to remove Dumbledore from the post of Headmaster on a regular basis it seems for the last number of years. And yet it never sticks.

The Umbridge disaster a few months ago had the Board and parents clamouring for Dumbledore to be back. Even Fudge buckled to the pressure. His reputation beginning to tarnish.

“Thoros believes that he may be close to something. He wanted to know if the Board would support his removal if he brought it forward. I said of course we would!”

She supposes that depends on what he is planning to blackmail the Board with this time. He has lost his leverage over Nyles since his wife discovered his affair. And he has never been able to discover something to blackmail Luisa on.

“The Dark Lord wants Hogwarts. Once we remove Dumbledore, we will be able to get there.” Lucius finishes his glass. With a small flick of his cane he sends it back to sit on the table. He watches her take a sip from her own glass.

“What of McGonagell?” The witch is Deputy Headmistress after all.

Lucius scoffs. “That old witch? Easily taken care of. Severus has told us she is still weak after what happened last year.” Yes, five stunners to the chest would make most weak. Draco had still been in a state of disbelief when he told her about it. Her son had a small soft spot for his Transfiguration Professor. Not that Lucius is aware of it of course.

The glass is barely out of her hands before he is pressing her back into the mattress.

At the beginning of their marriage, sex with Lucius was an adventure. They were always finding new ways to pleasure each other. She can still recall the look on Abraxas’s face when he walked into the library one afternoon. But four years of trying to get pregnant, only for her to keep failing, changed it from an adventure to a chore. When she did finally conceive, her pregnancy left her bedridden

After she gave birth to Draco, she thought they would pick up again. But he didn’t touch her for almost a year after she had Draco. And then he was questioned following the Dark Lord’s disappearance. He was quickly released, but still, he _was_ briefly detained by the Aurors.

And they never recovered. Sex became mundane.

He has removed their robes and is moving on top of her. It has been years since she has had an orgasm with Lucius. He buries his face in her neck and it is not long before he lets out a small grunt.

Her eyes move to the clock even as her hands remain on his back.

*********************

He did say noon right? Daphne glances at her watch. It is a couple minutes past noon by now.

She has been waiting here for about five minutes.

Lunch with her parents and Astoria had ended on time, not that she expected anything different. Her mother kept to a very strict schedule after all. Astoria had gone to find her friends, but not before trying to subtly ask her if Lance was seeing anyone. Crush confirmed.

Her hands are fidgeting and she places them underneath her bum. Sitting on them will stop it.

Why did Astoria have to have a crush on Lance? Couldn’t she have a crush on almost anyone else?

She can feel her hands fidgeting underneath her bum and closes her eyes. Please stop.

Ron hasn’t mentioned anything to her so she is pretty sure that Lance barely knows Astoria exists outside of being her little sister. But still. So she had mentioned that she thinks she saw Lance talking to a Ravenclaw, that Isabel girl. Which isn’t a lie. She had seen them talking. It just so happened to be because they were paired together in Transfiguration.

What time is it now?

She opens her eyes. But her watch is on her wrist. She lets out a breath and removes her hands from beneath her. See? They aren’t fidgeting that much anymore. Just a little. And her breathing is under control.

It is five minutes after noon.

He had said noon right?

But what if it was just because – her chest starts to tighten and she looks around at the crowds moving down the street. Some of them are laughing. But nobody seems to be paying attention to her sitting on the bench. 

It’s fine, it’s fine. All of the girls said so too.

But still, what if –

“Sorry I’m late Daphne,” she looks up to see Cassius striding towards her. “A few fourth-years were causing some trouble at Zonko’s.”

She smiles, pressing her hands into her lap and feels her chest loosen. “That’s okay.”

“How was lunch?” he asks as she stands up from the bench.

“Good,” she glances over at him. “Do you meet your parents during Hogsmeade weekends?”

He nods. “I normally meet them for dinner,” another smile at her. “But I’m all yours for the next few hours.”

Her hands have stopped fidgeting again and she smiles back at him.

**********************

Hermione both loves and dreads Hogsmeade weekends.

It is wonderful to get out of the castle and visit the shops. Pick up some more items for school. She pats her bag with a smile. There had been some new books out too. She cannot wait to get back to the castle so she can get started reading.

But . . . she glances over at the rest of the tables in the Three Broomsticks. It is filled with parents – she glances back at her own table, and other tables – visiting their children.

And of course, muggles can’t visit Hogsmeade.

Sirius calls her name and she looks back at him. He tilts his head at her. “Is it true? Has my godson not gotten into any trouble yet this year?”

Why does he seem disappointed by that?

She nods. “He even seems to be one of the new professor’s favourites.”

“Oh, really, does Remus have some competition in the favourite professor department?”

Harry shakes his head, grinning. He had barely been able to contain his excitement the last few days on being able to see Sirius this weekend. In public no less. She glances around at the tables again. A number of the other customers keep looking over at them though. She wonders how many believe them that you-know-who is back.

And how many still believe that Sirius is a murderer.

“Who is this professor?” Sirius is still talking.

“Professor Slughorn. He’s teaching Alchemy.”

The older man lets out a loud laugh. “Old Sluggy is back at Hogwarts? Has he started up his Slug Club yet?” Both she and Harry look at him questioningly. “He has dinners with his favourite students,” he elaborates.

Oh, was that the get together Professor Slughorn had invited her to this upcoming week? He had invited a few of them from the Alchemy class to it, but it was rather unclear as to what it actually was. Hermione was invited, but not Harry. Blaise, Mandy, Malfoy and Greengrass were invited too.

“Were you part of it?” Hermione asks.

At that Sirius lets out a loud bark of laughter that has the others in the restaurant looking over at them. He keeps laughing. “Me? Of course not!” he shakes his head and then looks over at Harry. “Your mother was though.”

Harry smiles softly at the mention.

They meet up with Neville after his own lunch with his Gran. Sirius strolls through the village with them as they talk. He doesn’t have any news to give them though – they already know that you-know-who still wants the prophecy – and he is already aware that Harry has been meeting with Professor Dumbledore.

The rest of the day passes quickly in Hogsmeade. They see Dean and Seamus at one point. Dominic and Lavender – it definitely looks like that date went well, Hermione assumes that she’ll be hearing all about that tonight. Parvati is with Padma, so the date with Wayne obviously didn’t go well.

Malfoy scowls and Parkinson glares when they see them.

Back at the castle, the three of them settle into the common room. She gets out one of her new books, a text that examines the origins of the summoning and levitation charms, while Harry and Neville start a card game. Dean and Seamus join in when they come back.

“I just can’t believe it!”

Hermione looks up as Seamus exclaims. What are they talking about?

“It’s October! Shouldn’t he have ended up there at least a couple times by now?” Dean laughs.

“Well, don’t jinx it!” Harry scolds. “Our first game is in two weeks!”

She sighs. Quidditch. Of course. That must mean they are talking about Cormac. It does seem a little odd that he has managed to get through the first month of school without ending up in the hospital wing.

*********************

During the school year, Hogsmeade weekends are Narcissa’s favourites. Like most other parents, she meets with her son in the village for lunch.

He talks of his classes. She still cannot believe Slughorn is back at Hogwarts. And it sounds like he is starting up his Slug Club again. Draco mentions that the first dinner is this coming week.

But like all Hogsmeade days, eventually her son presses a polite kiss to her cheek and goes to meet his friends.

She sees Sirius with the Potter boy, her eyes narrow slightly, as well as the Granger girl. And of course the Longbottom boy, though she does her best not to look at him. She finds it difficult seeing the boy after just being at the Manor in the morning.

When she does apparate back to the Manor, Bella is waiting for her in the entryway. 

“It’s just too bad Cissy!” Bella grips her arm as they walk through the Manor.

“What is?”

“That Draco’s birthday is so far away of course!”

Of course. Narcissa is well aware that her sister wishes that Draco’s seventeenth birthday was earlier than June. He still has the Trace on him until that point. And not even the Dark Lord is willing to risk the Trace being triggered when he has done so well to convince everyone that he is not yet back.

But why is her sister bringing this up again?

“Yes, well, unfortunately, his birthday isn’t until June.” Thank Merlin his birthday isn’t until June. It is both too close and so far.

“Nott’s boy turns seventeen in December.”

“Theodore?” she asks the question though it is obviously Theodore. And as she recalls, his birthday is in mid-December.

Bella nods. “The Dark Lord is offering to host a ceremony for his birthday.” Her eyes shine with jealousy.

She nearly falters in her step, but looks down and sets her foot down gently. It is better that it is Theodore as opposed to Draco. And she would sacrifice anything for her son. But still, she recalls both boys running through halls. Back then the laughter that echoed in these halls filled her with joy. Now she struggles not to shudder.

Is there something that she could do?

She continues to commiserate with Bella on the unfortunate happenstance of Draco being born so late in the year.

It’s not until the following afternoon that she is able to get away. Sirius is already there leaning against a tree when she arrives. And she is pleased that he listened to her and brought Andy too. Even if her sister is not looking at her.

“I feel as if we just saw each other cousin. What could possibly-“

“The Dark Lord is going to mark Theodore Nott on his seventeenth birthday.”

Neither one of them looks surprised. Sirius nods and looks off to the side. “I’m surprised he’s waiting until the boy is seventeen.”

Narcissa closes her eyes briefly as she remembers. She opens her mouth again but her sister interrupts her.

“We already know,” Andy is still not looking at her. “Crabbe and Goyle offered up their sons as well. Same with Selwyn. Travers,” her sister finally turns her gaze to her. “You know this Narcissa. If you-know-who accepts the offer from the parents, he will brand them. And you will watch it.”

And she knows that. She does. But yet, there is a difference between the possibility of it happening and the plans for it to occur.

Until a couple days ago with Rookwood’s nephew, it had been years since she had been witness to one.

And she had forgotten the screams.

Watching the boys that her son has grown up with be marked is not something she wishes to be witness to.

“You are doing this for Draco are you not?” her sister asks.

She nods. Of course.

“Then you know what you must do Narcissa.”

She does. She must watch it. And listen to the screams of the boy who she has known since before he could walk.

Instead of the Manor she apparates to Diagon Alley. She knows it is foolish. Sundays can be busy and she didn’t arrange anything in advance, so she knows not to expect anything. Still she is disappointed when she walks into the shop and doesn’t see him.

“Mrs Malfoy,” it is the brother that works at the Ministry. He nods politely at her. “Anything I can help you with?”

“Thank you,” she shakes her head. “I’m just browsing.” He gives her another nod and then goes to back away. “I’m looking for a gift for my husband, it’s a surprise.”

Another nod. “Of course. Please let myself or Charlie know if you require anything.”

She smiles politely and turns around. The shop really is a strange assortment. There is everything from potions to books, joke products to dark objects that border on the illegal. She pauses looking at a hand mirror that is partially covered by a cloth. Glances at the label, ah, a Midnight Mirror. That must be one of the items Selwyn had been selling. She wonders how his wife is doing with the withdrawals then.

And if they are now displaying this type of item, what are they keeping in the backroom for the private viewings?

After she feels she has made a show of wandering the shop long enough, she heads for the door.

“Good-bye Mrs Malfoy.”

She tilts her head politely at him.

*********************

August 1996

She woke up to him slipping back into his bed. She had fallen back asleep after he left earlier and said he wouldn’t be long. But it still looked very early. The sun was just rising out the window.

“Hey, you’re back,” she mumbled rolling over to face him. He shuffled over to her and placed a hand on her waist. “How was it?”

He paused briefly. “Interesting.”

She wondered what he meant for a moment. But then he leaned forward and kissed her, rolling her gently so that she was on her back. He used his forearms to prop himself above her. She felt the scars on his back as she clutched at him.

“I would much rather have stayed here with you.”

His lips moved to the spot on her neck and she moaned. He slipped into her and she raised her hips to meet him as he rocked into her.

She came with a long groan, arching her back and wrapping her legs at his back.

*****************


End file.
